Little Brother Lost
by Naz
Summary: Makalaure reminisces about a simplier time, & is jealous of Maitimo for being able to leave Middle-earth... R&R, please. (if you want a second chapter..)


It feels like a dream from so long ago.........

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"Makalaurë, stupid," the younger's older brother said, frowning down at him. "I told you watch where you were going, yet you listen not." The red-haired boy sighed and helped his sniffling little brother to his feet. "What did you hurt?"

"My knee," sniffled Makalaurë, rubbing at his eyes. "Mai, I sorry."

Maitimo looked up to his little brother and blinked. Then rolled his eyes. "It isn't that important," he sighed, lifting Makalaurë up. "You are too heavy!" he gasped, eyes widening. "It cannot hurt –that- much to walk!"

Makalaurë giggled, wrapping Maitimo's hair round his little fingers. "I like it when you carry me better, Russa!" He smiled.

The older boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so I'm Russa now?" he said, trying to hide the amusement in his voice. "Not Mai, or Maiti? Russa now?"

Makalaurë giggled as though he had eaten a whole bag of sugar. "Yes, yes!" he squeaked hyperly, wriggling in his older brother's arms. "Ai!" Maitimo yelled. "Stop –moving-!"

Maitimo carried the wriggling child all the way back to Tirion, and to their home, where he sat him down to look at his injured leg. Their mother, although expecting a third child, was out and about, and of course their father was off making things. They were both usually very busy, so Maitimo often had to take care of his little brother.

"Mae, it stings," Makalaurë whimpered, his lower lip trembling.

Maititmo peeked up at the younger, seeing his eyes pool with tears. "Oh, come now," he said. "It cannot be –that- bad. It's only a scratch, see?" He pointed to the small knee, where some of the skin had been scraped away. "It may hurt, yes, but in battle there can be worse wounds."

His younger brother pouted an "you're-really-not-helping" Look.

"Pardon my trying to make you feel better."

He bandaged the scrape up, and Makalaurë bounced off the chair where he had sat. Maitimo called after him to come back, but the younger elf was heedless of his brother's commands. "Will you never listen to me?" he called to him, jogging after him now. "Must I baby-sit you to the very End?"

Makalaurë giggled, nodded. "Yes!" he said enthusiastically. "You can't never go without me!"

Maitimo ignored the bad grammar. "Oh really?" he asked, slowing. "I shall really have to watch over you for ever?"

"That'd be nice, Russa." Makalaurë turned to face his red-haired brother. "I don't want you to leave me, ever." Then he ran back to the older Noldo and hugged him round his waist. "Russa's –never- leaving me. Ever!"

Maitimo smiled, and yet rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine," he sighed in mock aggravation. "I suppose I really am stuck with you for ever. But I suppose that is not a bad thing." He pet the soft, black-red hair that was already beginning to trail down the young elf's back. "Come," he said, "Are you hungry?"

Makalaurë nodded, and trailed behind his brother to their kitchen.

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It's cold out. I can't believe what I've just seen. The tears keep coming. They won't stop.

Damn it, Russandol. You –promised.- You promised you'd never leave me. Now look at me, here all alone!

I cannot go back. As much as I wish, I cannot, will not, show my face amongst my kin ever again.

So I will die of grief, then.

I set myself down by the sea and begin to sob. No matter how many tears fall from my eyes, I can never claim I am innocent. I lost that innocence long ago, with the first Teleri I ran through during the Kinslaying.

I am truly damned, am I not?

In a way, I can be jealous of you, Russa. You get to go home. You get to see them all again. Even Father, who always did seem a little cross at me all the time. You get to see them all.

But you left Makalaurë behind.

I feel so small, so like a child again. Alone, abandoned. You promised, Maitimo, you promised. You said you'd –always- look out for me, that you'd –never- leave me! You promised and you –lied.-

I can die anytime now.

Anytime now.

I'm waiting for you, Death. Why not take me, last of the damned house of the Kinslayers. Why not take me? I have nothing left here, yet I feel too coward to take my own life. What of grief? I will die of grief, will I not? Well, there is plenty of grief within me. Take me now then!

I should muffle the sobs. I don't need to be found.

Elrond and Elros......... They'll be all right. They'll be all right. It is better this way.

For the time being, I should sleep, although it brings back the memories of so long ago, that I hurt to remember. Memories that are like dreams from long ago.

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A/N:

this......... is really short. If you think writing a chapter 2 is worth it, please tell me so......... It may not be much, no more than a vignette, I suppose. (shrugs) Please R&R? (bows) I live for them! Oh, & while you're at it, please make sure to hug the Maglor to your right.........

(ps: yes, I know, I made makalaure say "damn it." I'm sorry......... it just seems to be......... I don't know. He's just angry & sad, I suppose. Or I need to broaden my vocabulary (ary: ANSWER: YES! :p).........


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